Second Time Around
by tmtcltb
Summary: In a world struggling with the aftermath of the Red Flu, famine, and war, two people find each other. AU. Non-canon.


_A/N - this is outside my usual bandwagon but I hope that you will be willing to give it a chance. I am still working on some ideas for longer fictions, and I'm certainly not abandoning my favorite pair, but may post a few one shots in the meantime. Enjoy! xoxo - tmtcltb_

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Carlton Burk leaned against the wall of the gymnasium, wishing himself pretty much anywhere except for here. Not that the gymnasium itself was unpleasant. Actually, Carlton had spent many enjoyable afternoons here playing pick up games with the guys. No, what made tonight particularly unpleasant was not the gym, but rather what was happening in the space. Today, Cupid's Crew - a terrible, terrible name that Carlton could not believe was being used by anyone over the age of twelve - had transformed the usually pleasant gymnasium into the equivalent of a high-school dance, complete with fruit punch devoid of any alcohol.

Today's event, like the dozen or so that Carlton had attended in the past six months, took the form of speed dating. The participants were shuffled from one small cubicle to the next and given five minutes to find a connection with the person across the table, while elevator music played in the background. At the end of five minutes, a bell rang, and the men moved to their next assigned cubicle while the woman remained behind to take notes and, presumably, give each potential date a score. After a barrage of complaints at the first such event, where Carlton found himself paired with an eighteen-year-old recruit who burst into tears upon seeing she was matched with the XO who terrified her, and Alisha was forced to sit through eight pointless dates with young men, the organizers seemed to have realized that a little screening could go a long way. Now the events were more tailored. Tonight's event, for example, contained only officers and civilians in an attempt to avoid running into issues with the fraternity rules.

The downside to this change was that four out of the five women Carlton was paired with for the first round were under twenty. Stripping out all enlisted personnel apparently left a dearth of age-appropriate potential dates.

"May we have your attention!" Boomed the loudspeaker. Carlton promptly tuned the noise out, barely glancing at the slide show touting the organizers' success stories. They were taking credit for several engagements, three marriages, and one pregnancy. From Carlton's perspective, that seemed like a dismal success rate given the practically mandatory nature of these events for all military personnel. Still, to be fair, Cupid's Crew hadn't had much to work with. After the Red Flu killed off close to 95% of the population, following in short order by food shortages and war, people no longer seemed to have the natural desire to get married and have children. Not that Carlton blamed anyone. Who wanted to have a child that you would then struggle to feed? Still, the falling population was of extreme concern to the people that be. Having heard first-hand some of the more unorthodox ideas that the higher-ups proposed to resolve the situation, Carlton supposed that Cupid's Crew wasn't the worst thing that could happen. Hell, maybe he would actually meet somebody. Cameron, one of the smiling faces plastered across the success boards, certainly seemed happy with his new fiancé, a petite stick of a thing who always greeted Carlton with a smile and a pan of homemade pasta.

As the bell rang to announce the end of the fifteen minute break, Carlton straightened his shoulders and, after checking his schedule, moved towards table number 32. He smiled brightly at the brunette who appeared to be closer to his age, imagining that she couldn't be worse than the nineteen-year-old with the bubble gum addiction. Carlton revised that opinion less than a minute later when he made the mistake of asking the woman if she liked children. He spent the next four minutes awkwardly soothing the woman, explaining between sobs that she lost her husband and two children to the Red Flu.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Carlton moved to the next cubicle. Taking a step inside, he stopped, letting out a bark of laughter. Sitting in the chair opposite, arms folded across her chest in a excellent imitation of Admiral Thomas Chandler, was Kara Foster Green. Her stern expression melted away and she let out a sigh of relief when she saw that it was Carlton.

"Thank goodness," Carlton dropped into the chair across from her with a groan.

"Been that bad?" Kara asked sympathetically.

"The worst," Carlton grumbled, quickly filling her in on the disastrous evening. When he finished, Carlton asked. "Why are you here, anyway? I thought that the brass excluded people with living children?"

That exclusion - for those with living children - had been one of the most controversial aspects of the program. Admiral Mike Slattery went so far as to lodge a formal protest, one that was ignored as best Carlton could tell, on the grounds that it was cruel to those who were still mourning the loss of their families.

"They did. But it just seems wrong to me. We're practically forcing these young kids to get married and have babies. Were you ready to get married at twenty? I sure wasn't." Kara shook her head. "I figured that the least I can do is show up and do my part."

"And terrorize your poor matches?" Carlton asked, raising an eyebrow. Not that he didn't understand what Kara was saying. Many of the young folks who had joined the service over the last five years were orphans, not only the sole survivors of their families, but often the sole survivors of their entire community. For them, the military was the chance to build a new community, create a new family. For those kids, participation in this charade was non-negotiable. Thinking about those kids made Carlton uncomfortable, a fear that in pushing so hard to rebuild, they might be losing more than they knew.

"Some of them deserve terrorizing," Kara retorted. Then she sighed. "Actually, due to the restrictions on who I can be matched with, my rotation has been comprised of all commanding officers. All I've talked about is work."

"At least it's only five minutes. And _you_ haven't had to deal with crying."

"Speaking of which," Kara checked her watch. "Three to go. You meet anyone interesting? Besides the crier, of course."

"It depends on whether you think discussing whether Ms. Bro is a VSCO girl is interesting."

"A what?" Kara asked.

"It's a..." Carlton snorted. "Actually I'm not even sure. Don't tell anybody else that I said this, but I think I'm too old for this. All those girls seem like kids to me."

Kara's laugh was genuine this time. "You end up dating a frog hog and I'm going to stop inviting you over for dinner."

"Then you'd have to cook," Carlton pointed out, stretched his legs. "How is Frankie?"

"He's good," Kara replied, but her gaze was far away and Carlton could tell that she was distracted. "Kindergarten is going about as well as can be expected. The other kids keep asking him about the Nathan James. The other day someone asked him if Tom was really ten feet tall. He just seems confused about all of the attention."

Due to their numerous moves, Kara elected not to put Frankie into preschool, and choice that had the added advantage of keeping him sheltered. But now that the boy was in public school, Carlton suspected that a few bumps were coming. "I'll talk to him when I take him fishing on Thursday. Wolf is going to tag along. He said he needs some practice."

"I heard the news," Kara replied with a genuine smile. "I'm happy for him and Azima."

Silence fell, and Carlton waited while Kara gnawed on her lip. After knowing her for close to ten years, he could tell that she had something on her mind.

"Do you ever wanted to work?"

"What? You mean the speed dating?"

"Well, maybe not this," Kara replied with a wave of her hand and a grimace. "But dating. Meeting somebody, getting married, having a family."

"Of course." Carlton was confused. "Isn't that what everybody wants?"

Kara shrugged, her fingers tapping on the table. "Everyone assumes that I'm done. That I have Frankie and it's enough. But sometimes I think about starting over. I think about getting married again - or at least going on a date."

"Really?" Carlton stared at her. In the two years since Danny died, shot on Malta destroying Vellek's insects, Carlton had never considered that Kara might start dating. And yet, even as the thought occurred, he realized how ridiculous it was. Why should Kara spend the rest of her life alone? Why would she want to?

Her smile was wry. "Your reactions is telling."

Carlton gave an exaggerated smile. "Hell, you know me and women. My dating record is worse than Miller's Fortnite score, and that's saying something."

"Do you remember when you asked me out?" Kara asked.

Carlton shuddered. "I've blocked the memory."

In retrospect, Carlton knew that Kara went easy on him when he stopped her one day after lunch, wiggling his eyebrows and asking if she would be interested in joining him for a little something something that night at Shippers. But after issuing a verbal lashing, Kara let him off the hook. She even agreed to a drink, as friends. Of course, like the idiot he was, when Kara showed up that night with Alisha, Carlton assumed he knew the real reason that Kara turned him down. That was a mistake Alisha would never let him forget.

"I didn't say no that day because I wasn't interested," Kara explained, her expression thoughtful. "I said said no because you made it into a joke. I thought that you were just trying to get in my pants. You're this sincere and thoughtful guy, Carlton, but with women you act like a player. It's not appealing."

"So tonight's disaster is my fault?" Carlton teased.

"Hell no," Kara snorted. "I was thinking out loud. Why don't we do that drink now?"

As he heard the bell ring, Carlton began to stand, only then comprehending what Kara said. "You want to have the drink I asked you to have ten years ago now?"

"Yes," Kara replied firmly, her eyes fixed on his. "Let's go Saturday. I'll ask my mother to watch Frankie. Pick me up at eight?"

"You trust me to drive?" Carlton replied, his voice light, trying to understand what, exactly, Kara was proposing. Did she actually want to go out on a date? With him?

Kara smiled. "I trust you to take care of me."

His mind whirling, Carlton smiled back. "Always, baby girl, always."

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Kara stared at her reflection in the mirror, wondering what the hell she was doing. Was she really going on a date with Carlton? Well, sort of a date, his text from earlier that day of _Are we still on for eight?_ was less than confidence inspiring. Not that she blamed Carlton for the confusion - she wouldn't even blame him for backing out. Her invitation came almost as much of a shock to her as to him, driven in no small part with her frustration over her own evening. Of the ten men Kara met, excluding Carlton, not one of them saw her as serious dating potential. All similar rank, all ambitious, all looking for a wife to stay at home and take care of the kids while they climbed the ranks. But even if one of them would have accepted her career, there was another hurdle that Kara could not seem to overcome.

_Lieutenant Daniel Green_.

Their relationship was legendary, especially after that reporter got Miller drunk and he spilled far too many details about what happened on the Nathan James. The story of Kara volunteering to test Doctor Scott's vaccine, Danny learning that she was pregnant while she was infected, captured the public's imagination. The fact that Danny was a Navy SEAL, and handsome to boot, didn't hurt, and they became American royalty, tidbits about their lives regularly appearing in the newspapers. Danny's subsequent death, followed by a grainy black-and-white picture of Kara holding two-year-old Frankie at the funeral, only increased the public interest. For weeks after arriving back in the States from Malta, Kara couldn't leave the house without being accosted by reporters.

Now, almost three years later, that was no longer a problem. But the perception that Kara would be heartbroken forever, never looking at another man, remained.

And she was tired of it, dammit.

Yes, she loved Danny. Yes, he was a good man. Yes, she was devastated when he was killed. But Danny was dead and she was alive, and she wasn't an eighty year old woman who had given up on dating and sex and marriage.

_Especially sex_.

Damn Kara missed having sex. Kissing someone. Feeling hands on her body. Seeing desire growing in another person's eyes, desire for her as a person, as a woman.

And that was why she was going out tonight. That was why she asked Debbie to keep Frankie for the night. That was why she was wearing a sundress that showed off her cleavage. It was even why she was going out with Carlton rather than trying this with any of the other men she with matched with at the speed dating events. Because Carlton knew her before. Before Danny. Before she was a widow. Back when she was just Kara, and not the remaining half of the most famous couple in the world.

She told Carlton that, four hours and three drinks later, having decided that her self-imposed two drink maximum did not apply to dates.

"You were never just Kara," Carlton scoffed. "But, really? Nothing since Danny?"

"Nope." Kara giggled as she took a sip of the green apple martini. "I tried a couple times. Talk about awkward. I actually got the _you'll thank me in the morning_ speech once. As though I were sixteen begging my teacher to deflower me."

Carlton's eyebrows rose at the analogy. "Did that..."

"Of course not," Kara began sputtering, seeing the sparkle in his eye too late. "Anyway, so that's why I asked you out tonight."

"To have sex," Carlton deadpanned. "You want to use me for my body."

"No, well yes, well..." Kara giggled again. Damn her tolerance was through the floor! "I wanted to explore the option. If you did. Assuming you haven't changed your mind about me being a fine piece of ass."

Carlton chuckled at the long ago comment, one that Kara had not appreciated at the time. But he didn't look at her, focusing on the straw that he was twirling in his drink, and Kara felt her buzz beginning to dissipate. Finally Carlton spoke. "What if it doesn't work out? He was my best friend, Kara. I promised him that I would watch out for you."

Kara understood. Carlton was one of her closest friends. He spent at least once a week at their house, hanging with Frankie, helping her with chores, talking to her about anything and everything. Loosing him would be...hard. And for him there would be the added guilt of feeling that he broke his promise to Danny.

"We'll just have to make sure things don't end badly." Kara replied.

"Give me some time to think?" Carlton asked after another pause.

Disappointment coursed through Kara, but the request was more than reasonable. "Sure. Let me know when you are ready."

He studied her, and then she saw a gleam in his eye. Scooting closer in the booth, Carlton slid an arm around her shoulder. "Of course, decisions are always easier once you have all the information."

Kara was a bit slow on the uptake, not following until Carlton ran a piece of her hair between his fingers. The gesture reminded her so much of Danny that a lump grew in her throat. She forced herself to push the memory aside. Danny would not want her to be alone, forever. _He wouldn't_. "That's true."

"How about we get out of here? You can give me an audition. See how I do."

Relief and excitement coursing through her, Kara swiftly finished off her drink. "Now _that_ sounds like a plan."

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Carlton climbed the concession stand balancing two hot dogs and a plate of nachos. Thank goodness Kara wasn't one of those sorority girls who were afraid to eat. It really put a damper on things when he was the only one scarfing a plate full of junk. He took the seat next to Kara, passing her a hot dog. "What's the score?"

"Approximately a thousand to a thousand," Kara muttered, licking ketchup off her finger. An innocent gesture, one that Kara probably made dozens of times before and, yet, somehow intimate now that he knew exactly what she could do with that tongue. Carlton mentally considered whether there would be an opportunity to get Kara alone later in the day, but quickly dismissed the idea, amused that after six months of regular sex he was still acting like he had just returned from a deployment.

The woman seated to Carlton's left chuckled at Kara's comment. "These games do seem to drag on. Which one is yours?"

To his right, Carlton felt Kara stiffen, the way she always did when people assumed that he was Frankie's father, and he felt the usual pang of guilt. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder why he survived when Danny didn't. Why he was here, living the life that, by all rights, belonged to another man. And that was before he started sleeping with Kara, stepping into Danny's shoes in probably the most literal way possible.

"The shortstop," Kara replied, taking another bite of her hot dog.

"I see." The woman's voice softened, obviously realizing that Frankie looked nothing like Carlton. She didn't comment, though, the events of the last five years making such circumstance all to common. "He's a lucky young man to have you both here cheering for him. You two have anymore kids?"

"No, ma'am," Carlton replied.

The woman made a tisking sound. "That's a shame. Not too many dads are willing to spend Sunday afternoon out here watching little league when the NFL is playing."

Just then, Frankie managed to catch a pop fly. Standing so quickly that he almost dropped his food, Carlton gave a cheer. "Go Frankie!"

Frankie stood there staring at his glove before looking over at the stands, a grin splitting his face. "Mommy! Uncle Carl! I caught the ball!"

"You sure did," Kara called. "Now go get Ryan out!"

Watching Frankie scamper towards another kid, who seemed more interested in stringing daisy chains that playing baseball, Kara turned to Carlton, her voice low. "She's right, you know. You would be a wonderful dad, Carlton."

Carlton shrugged. "Maybe someday."

But Kara didn't let it go, her eyes focused on Frankie as she spoke. "You're the closest thing to a father that Frankie has. And he's damn lucky to have you. I think this is what Danny wanted."

"Pretty sure Green's idea of a threesome did not involve two guys," Carlton retorted.

Kara smacked his arm with her hand. "Fine, be that way. Now give me some of those nachos."

As he passed her the cheese sauce, Carlton felt a sense of peace. The guilt of living when Danny died would never entirely go away, but at least Carlton knew that he was keeping his promise to his friend. He was taking care of the family that Danny left behind.

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Kara sat at the table sorting through the pictures, struck by one of Danny taken before he boarded the Nathan James. Danny stood with Benz, Berchem and Smith, taken when the four men went fishing together down in the Caribbean. Danny looked young, carefree, his arm carelessly thrown across Frankie's shoulders. Kara could barely remember Danny looking like that, even though that was the man she first fell head over heals for. Everything happened so quickly. First learning about the Red Flu. Then Danny losing the team. And then discovering that she was pregnant. There was no time to think about anything and, in what felt like a nanosecond, the old Danny was gone, indelibly changed by grief and loss and responsibility.

Then, less than three years later, he was killed. His death was almost four years ago now. She had been a widow for longer than she was a wife.

Sometimes Kara wondered what would have happened if Danny survived. Prior to the Red Flu hitting, Danny was a bit of a player, leaving women in every port. Would they still be together, raising Frankie and maybe a sibling or two? Would he eventually have tired of domesticity, returning to his old ways like Tex? Or would he have spent the remainder of his days fighting his demons like Tom?

Kara didn't move when she heard the door open. "In the kitchen," she called.

Carlton grabbed a soda from the fridge before sitting down in the chair across from her. "What's all this?"

"The brass is talking about a museum again. I was thinking about donating some pictures," Kara explained. Shuffling through the shots, she found the one she was looking for. A picture of Danny, Carlton, Wolf and Ravit. "Remember when this was taken?"

Carlton took the snapshot. "Florida. When we infiltrated that bat-shit crazy cult."

"I was going to make a copy for Wolf," Kara explained. She fingered the edge of another picture, one of the entire Nathan James crew upon reaching St. Louis. "I can make one for you. If you want."

"I'd like that."

Kara looked up, finally. "Do you think about her? Ravit, I mean? She had such a presence. I often wonder what she would have done if she lived."

"Yeah." At first Kara thought Carlton was done, but then he continued. "I used to think about it a lot. I'd see you and Danny with Frankie and I'd think, hey, that could've been me. With a family. You know?"

"Yeah."

"But not so much anymore," Carlton admitted. "It was easy, at the beginning. Imagining Ravit alive. Picturing us in St. Louis. I could see us dating, getting married, having a baby. But after that it got murky. There were just too many possibilities. Would she have gone back to Israel or stayed here? One kid or three? Military or civilian? When I try to picture what our life might be like today, I can't."

"I get it," Kara took a deep breath before continuing, "I feel that way with Danny more and more. Its like he's stuck in the past, but time didn't stop. I can still picture him tossing Frankie in the air, but when I think about Frankie playing baseball or riding his bike, I don't see Danny. Instead I see you."

"I'm not trying to take Danny's place," Carlton said, his voice serious, his face sincere.

"I know," Kara replied. She ran her finger along the picture of the crew again. In some ways, it was a much simpler time. "Danny will always be Frankie's father. But I'm wondering if you might be interested in playing the role of surrogate full time."

Carlton gazed at her steadily. "What, exactly, are you suggesting?"

Kara took a deep breath. To her, after almost a year of dating, this felt like the natural next step. But she didn't want to push Carlton into anything he was uncomfortable with. "I thought maybe you could move in."

He didn't answer immediately, continuing to stare at her as though he had a dozen questions and wasn't sure where to begin. Before he could ask a single one, however, Frankie came bursting through the door, throwing his backpack down on the floor.

"Hey Mom." Frankie gave Kara a hug and then his attention changed to Carlton. "What are you doing here, Uncle Carl?"

"Carlton and I were talking," Kara jumped in. She glanced at Carlton, and then took the plunge. "We were talking about Uncle Carl moving in here and living with us. What do you think?"

Frankie looked back and forth between the two. "Does that mean you're getting married?"

Carlton choked, requiring Kara to reach across the table and smack him on the back. "No."

"Maybe," Kara said at the same time.

Carlton looked at her, his surprise evident. "Really?"

She shrugged, as though the question was of no more importance than an inquiry as to the weather. "Really."

Frankie looked back and forth between them. "You should figure that out." His attention focused on his mother. "Justin is riding his bike down to Sam's house. Can I go?"

"Sure buddy," Kara replied, her attention fixed on Carlton. His attention, in turn, was fixed on her left hand.

"You took off your ring," he observed.

She nodded, her throat tight as she remembered the day that Danny slid that ring onto her finger. Both of them so happy, so excited, so very naive. Never would she have imagined how things would play out.

"Yes," Kara replied. "I did."

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Carlton rocked the infant, gently tucking her bright pink blanket around her. As she fussed, he crooned down at her. "Don't worry, baby girl, Daddy has you."

"Is she hungry again?" Frankie asked, leaning over to gently take the baby's tiny hand. At the sight of her big brother's face, the fussing eased. "She's _always_ hungry."

"That's because she's growing," Carlton explained. "Who knows, maybe she'll end us taller than you, shortie."

Frankie rolled his eyes. "She's a _girl_, Dad. She's always going to be shorter than me."

"You never know..." Carlton teased, only to be interrupted by his wife.

"Give Dani to me, Carlton." Kara busied herself brushing imaginary hairs off his dress whites. "Admiral Chandler will not be impressed if you show up to the ceremony with vomit down your back."

"Ew," Frankie recoiled, wrinkling his nose.

"Baby vomit isn't like real vomit," Carlton replied. "It doesn't even smell bad. Besides, you know the Admiral would secretly find it funny."

Kara ignored him, a telltale sign that she agreed with him but wasn't going to admit it. "So _Captain_ Burk, was it worth it? Taking all of us on in order to get your own ship?"

Carlton leaned down to press a kiss on Kara's lips. "The ship is nice, but the real prize was you. You were always worth it, Kara. Always."


End file.
